Semi-drunken life ramble

     As I lie in my dark bedroom listening to my "///////Stressless" playlist being overpowered by the noises blasting music of unidentifiable genre alternating with possibly awkward bathtub sex taking place next door to me, I ponder the fact that I am wiped at 11pm on a Saturday.  Is it because of the extra-jumpy kickboxing session I had this morning?  Possibly the overwhelming and looming stress that's been hovering above me like a dark purple cloud of doom that continues to push forward along with me?  Is it the fact that I had 3 margheritas this evening and I generally get happy after half a cerveza?  I think I'm just getting old.  Every time I look in the mirror, I'm shocked at how old I've gotten and how much it shows.  I get "pooped" (yes, I said, "pooped"!) so much earlier than used to when I was younger.  I even checked on next week's homework (gasp!) out of a hybrid mix of a feeling of responsibility and boredom.

     Aging scares me, as it always has.  I worry that I won't "be" anyone when I'm older, that I'll just have a boring job and no one will know who I am.  I worry that I am missing some calling that's been trying to buzz me for years, except I'm in the underground part of the "L" and I don't have US Cellular.  I see comfortable middle-aged people sipping on their beers and seeming content with their lives.  These people are not famous.  They have greying hair, are overeducated, and have anonymous professions with which they are satisfied.  I don't understand this.  I've tried to think that way, or at least to imitate that way of thinking.  I've tried to believe that I can be content being anonymous, having a "normal" life, getting married and having 2.5 children and barbecuing Boca burgers every 4th of July.  Maybe I'd grown up for a while, but I can't fool myself into contentedness anymore.  Yes, I am happy in my life, and I feel so blessed to have been given all these opportunities and to have all these wonderful people in my life.  But I cannot just accept existence at "face value".  I can't ignore all the questions I have about life and whether I have a predestined journey.  I can't accept my situation in apathy.  But that's just what I've been doing.  I stay away from controversial topics and am often too lazy to work on the things that interest me (I haven't been in a practice room since last semester, for example).  I've been floating through my classes without caring about grades very much and barely freaking out (at least on a conscious level) about the massive quantities of work I have.  I've shut down, and I don't know how to restart.  I don't even know if I should restart; sometimes I think I'm happier when I just let go of everything.  But when I start thinking about what I should really be doing, whether I am just tricking myself into thinking that I am happy with my current situation, I realize that I am truly not trying my best.  I lie around thinking about doing things without actually doing them.  Sometimes I'd rather take a nap than do anything else in the world.  I want to "find myself" but it seems so hard!  When I look back on the way I used to be, the girl who dressed up every day for whom singing was her whole life, who drew pictures and mimicked British accents, who looked disdainfully upon drinking, who dreamed of being famous is virtually gone.  I fell into French because I was too shy to try out for music school and I happened to do well in French classes.  I took an introductory linguistics course and fell in love with the subject.  Now I can't imagine having majored in anything other than French, but I don't know why.  I wonder if I am really the same person I used to be, because I just don't recognize myself anymore.  I feel like a more "worldly" person, a wiser person, but the girl I used to be seems like a distant shadow.  I don't want to be her anymore, but I fear that I'm leading a fake existence sometimes.  

     So my project henceforth (actually the project I've been working on since about the age of 9) is to figure out who I truly am.  Maybe it is "the journey that counts", and perhaps I'll figure that out along the way.  I just hope I have the courage to follow my dreams instead of clinging to a path that just might be "easy" for me.  However, that is the question.  Are we to follow the path that is easiest, and the most comfortable for us?  Would that not be following "fate", if such a thing exists?  Or are we supposed to follow crazy dreams that are uncertain and may not lead to prosperity?  Maybe personality plays a part.  Maybe my timidity is what has caused me to follow this path, which is perhaps indeed the path of my fate.  But maybe I am supposed to overcome my timidity and challenge myself (waaay more than I am now!).  I suppose I should figure out what I really "want" in life, as a first step, and, unfortunately, this is going to take some effort.